One Day More
by SheShouldHaveBeenaSon
Summary: A take on Victor Hugo's Les Misérables. Xena is a vigilante bent on overthrowing the corrupt King Ares. With his chief inspector, Callisto, obsessed with taking her down for her own dark reasons, Xena is forced to team up with a motley crew of rebellious villagers: the sheltered Gabrielle, the love stricken Joxer, and the morally ambiguous inn-keepers, Meg & Autolycus. Xena/Gabby.
1. Another Story Must Begin

ONE  
><span>Another Story Must Begin<span>

There was screaming... always screaming, nearly demonic screaming of not only physical but mental and emotional anguish. Every night these screams had tortured her, and every night she would wake increasingly more disturbed and guilt-ridden. The guilt was illogical, she knew. It was a dream, and one she could never fully remember or make sense of, at that. But there was something hauntingly familiar about the high-pitched cries, and they seemed to blame her. For what, she did not know.

This particular night, it was upon a bale of hay in an unwitting farmer's barn which she had awoken in a pool of cold sweat, haunted by the images and sounds that always eluded her upon consciousness. This was a luxury, as she had grown acclimated to the concrete as of late. But frankly, she hadn't absconded under a roof for the comfort, or even to escape the throes of the bitterly cold rain- she needed to hide.

The woman in question went by the name of Xena. At least, that is what she had been calling herself. Her birth name, although much more common, represented the identity of a slave to the system she no longer supported. As Xena, she had grown infamous for her acts of radicalism and her name was uttered by every government official as a harsh execration. However, the current leader of her fellow citizens, an austere yet dangerously charming man called Ares, was not altogether hateful of the woman; he was intrigued.

Looking up at the aged wooden ceiling, Xena clenched her fists. She had come face to face with her war-mongering king not hours ago. She was taken in to a personal conference with the ruler by his own chief inspector, Callisto. The authoritative enforcer had taken an almost perverse delight in the bringing in of Xena, and was more than insulted when she had been asked to leave the revolutionary and the king by themselves. Even now, sheltered in her bed of hay, far removed from the royal profligate, Xena shuddered. His dark gaze bored into her with a frightening amount of interest.

Xena understood hatred with the perspicacity of one who had known nothing else. As of late, the hatred she felt for her oppressive government was expanding in several directions, most notably inwardly. People were all so stupid, so fragile. They sat around in a haze while their ruler took full advantage of them, and then had the nerve to complain. They never took the initiative to spark a change. That's where Xena came in. But Xena wasn't enough. She knew this. Perhaps she would stop an immoral arrest or a heinous act of violence, but she had never stopped anything that truly mattered. She had never stopped the man she was forced to call 'king' from selling his own people into slavery. She had never stopped his henchmen from raping and murdering young and impoverished girls in outlaying villages. She had never stopped his military from their methods of abject imperialism. These are things even a person of her wit and ability could not do alone, and this is what incensed her against herself. People as a whole may have been too indolent to take action against injustice, but she was making no more difference than they were. That's what really hurt- the knowledge that without her, everything would be just the same. She was obsessed with the idea that she could be better than this.

It was no longer solely the screams that kept Xena rigid and exhausted. It was these plaguing thoughts as well. The hatred she bore for Ares and his devoted military and officials was beyond the means of human comprehension. It physically hurt her; it burned her from the inside until her entire body was shaking with rage. There were complete days when she would be rendered incapable of thinking of anything else, and her noble acts of vigilantism were never enough to quell the fire which devoured her.

Xena lay awake, contemplating the various ways she had failed herself. She should have taken Ares out when she had the chance. She had finally gotten the opportunity to force his abdication, and she had let him off with a warning.

The rebel was stirred from her consideration by the sound of footsteps from outside. She stood facing the barn doors, holding out her sword and staying deathly silent.

The left door opened ever-so cautiously, and Xena waited with her sword pointed at whoever was intruding on the spot she had found. If Ares had sent Callisto to capture her, she had to admire the inspector's efficiency, but she was going to put up one hell of a fight. Her blue eyes fixed upon the opened door, bemused.

A pale hand made its way through the door, bearing a lit torch. Slowly, the body to which it was attached emerged. He was old; his hair was white, his skin wrinkled, his eyes gentle and green. He began to speak, but was stopped mid-word at the sight of the tall, dark figure threateningly holding out a weapon. His eyes widened. "Who- who are you?" he asked tremulously. "What are you doing in my barn?"

Xena narrowed her gaze, thought for a moment, and withdrew her sword into the sheath upon her back. "Xena," she replied curtly. "The name's Xena." When the man before her remained silent and expecting, she sighed. "I'll be packing."

The man studied her. Despite her standoffish appearance, there was something earnest- something valiant- about the woman. "Do... do you need a place to rest?"

Xena looked from her satchel to the man at the door, taken by surprise. "You mean that?" she asked.

With great care, he began to approach her. "My home is always open to those down on their luck. Come," he offered, "my wife and I have a room for guests in our home. The barn is no place for the weary traveler." Gingerly, he placed his hand upon the woman's arm and began to lead her away. She frantically took hold of her satchel and allowed herself to do something of which she had never dreamed: to accept the kindness and charity of another human being.

Upon being lead into the house, she was struck by a piercing sorrow. These were the people she was meant to defend. These were the people she had failed by keeping Ares in power.

The farmer showed her to the guest room- a simple space of four walls filled only with a hard mattress and a small, round table topped with a lamp. But to Xena, it was comparable to the Elysian Fields.

"You can stay here as long as you need," the old man said. "Are... are you hungry? You must be hungry. I have bread and- and soup! I have bread and soup in the kitchen, and water and wine."

Xena tightly closed her eyes and lowered her head. It could not have been for more than two seconds, but when she brought herself to look back at the kind man, tears had gathered in her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you." The farmer smiled, greatly pleased to have his care accepted, and scurried off into the kitchen. Only then was Xena able to wipe the tears away from her eyes.

"What does he owe me?" she asked herself aloud. Utterly worn out, she sat down upon the mattress. The hatred always present in her heart met a burgeoning sense of love for humanity and lit a brand new fire within her: one of sheer determination.

Ares was going to be taken down.

For the sake of the few, valuable sources of good left in this tortured world, Ares was going to be dethroned. And Xena, by pain of death, was going to be the one to see to that.


	2. One Day Nearer to Dying

TWO

One Day Nearer to Dying

"Xena, Xena, Xena, Xena..." chanted Callisto, idly trailing her breast dagger across her thigh. Staring at the blood that was beginning to draw, she stopped her chanting and smiled. "Xena is gone, Xena is gone, Xena is gone..."

"Callisto!" cried the usually collected voice of King Ares, bursting through her chamber doors.

The chief inspector smirked perversely and swiveled around to face her leader, her head tilted playfully. "Yes?"

"Xena escaped. I want you to go out and find her."

The dark smile slowly disappeared from Callisto's face and she straightened head. "What?" she asked maliciously.

Ares raised an eyebrow, challenging her, and closed the distance between the two. "Xena. Escaped."

Callisto stood up with such ferocity that even Ares was taken aback. "You let her get away?" she screamed, eyes darkening with fury. "I practically handed you to her- you said you would take care of her! And you let her get away?!"

"I offered her a proposition. She refused."

"A proposition?! Why didn't you kill her?!"

"Xena would make a valuable asset to our team. I want her, Callisto. And you're going to bring her to me."

Callisto's features twisted in a paroxysm of rage. "I'll bring her to you, Ares. But she won't be alive when I do."

Ares lowered his gaze to lock his with Callisto's. "You kill Xena, there's nothing stopping me from doing the same to you."

Callisto simply smirked back in reply. "The kingdom may fear you, Ares, but I don't. I'll do what has to be done."

Ares considered hurting her to assert himself, to command respect, but then he remembered who it was he was dealing with. Physical pain wasn't the way to go about punishment with Callisto. She reveled in it. She took it as a challenge and would always find a way to strike back at her abuser. Ares had enough dead guards on his hands to know that. A more rational ruler would have had her incarcerated or perhaps executed long ago, but Ares followed instinct. Callisto showed passion, skill and cunning. She may have gone about things the wrong way at times, but she got more done for Ares' reign than anyone else in his control.

Which is why he wanted to control Xena. She showed that same promise, but with a helpful dollop of sanity thrown on.

Instead of assaulting her, Ares narrowed his eyes and glared. "You'll do what you're told. I want her alive." Venom dripped from his tongue as he spoke, but he knew his vehemence was wasted on this audience. He turned from her and removed himself from her chamber.

"So," Callisto said to herself, "he wants Xena, huh? Well... he always did go for the killers."

* * *

><p>Ares sat dolorously upon his throne, thinking of the dark and mysterious woman called Xena. What did she think she could accomplish on her own? Without his aid, her attempts at reform were useless. Without the aid of fellow indignant citizens, her attempts at reform were simply stupid. But this was a sort of stupidity that Ares, to himself, would admit he respected. It wasn't out of respect for her mission, by any means. It was that she was a worthy opponent. Even today, she had managed to humiliate and excite him.<p>

Callisto had succeeded in bringing her in. Her obedience and restraint in that venture was surprising. The king ordered to be alone with the vigilante, and, when she stayed silent, began to question her. Finally, he had asked her to join his team.

She had smirked in response. "Not a chance in Tartarus."

Ares had trouble repressing the smile that played upon his lips. "If you worked with me, you'd have a place to sleep. You'd have income. I'd have a queen. We'd both win, Xena."

"Being your queen is definitely a loss to me, Ares."

"I could keep you here until you agreed, you know."

"The only reason I'm here right now is because I want to be. I'd like to see you try."

Ares couldn't recall much more of their encounter, but he remembered the sharp pain in his calf, and then, ultimately, black out. When he awoke, there was an arrow in his lower leg, courtesy of Xena. Upon pulling the weapon out, he smelled the tip. Of course. It had been coated in a mild toxin, allowing him to lose consciousness and her to escape.

* * *

><p>Xena lay upon the hard mattress, wondering where tomorrow would take her. Would she remain with the farmer and take refuge a day longer? No; that would not do. If she wanted to spark change, she needed to embrace and intensify her innate fearlessness. If she wanted to spark change, she would have to be radical.<p>

Across the way, a young girl named Gabrielle was thinking the very same.


	3. Let One Speak Who Saw It All

THREE  
><span>Let One Speak Who Saw it All<span>

"People, listen to me!" Gabrielle pleaded. She stood atop the dais she had assembled earlier that morning, attempting to ignite within the people of her village the fire of revolution. The people, however, did not seem concerned with the blonde girl in the ragged blue dress.

Potidaea was in economic ruins. The village had never been flourishing, but it had had dignity once. After the raids of the warlord Draco and his army of men years back, Potidaea had not been able to land itself back on its feet. Therefore, Gabrielle's ranting seemed unimportant. The people could not be asked to care of struggles on a large scale when they themselves were uncertain of whether or not they would have the means to eat tomorrow. Nevertheless, the spirited girl tried her hardest.

"Greece is in ruins! The despot Ares wages war on his people and assures that freedom is but a lie to us all!" Gabrielle stared out into the village square, watching the villagers hustle about their daily routines. Most of them spared not so much as a simple glance to her. "Why aren't you listening?" she asked the public, frustration driving her to the verge of tears. She had been up on her ramshackle stage for nearly an hour and had failed completely in inspiring anybody. "How are you all content to allow this man to trample over the freedoms that make us human? That make us happy, beautiful human beings with goals and thoughts? How can you- agh! I give up." She sat down upon her stage in defeat and cradled her head in her hands.

Gabrielle suddenly felt a hand upon her shoulder. "I- uh, I think you did real good," came a familiar voice.

She didn't look up, but said, "Thanks, Joxer."

Joxer sat down beside Gabrielle and draped his arm around her. "You're gonna let this get you down?"

The ineffectual activist looked at her friend despairingly. "Of course I am. If I can't even make a change in Potidaea, how am I supposed to make a change where it really counts? I thought if I could just inspire one person, I could..." she sighed, and then continued, "I don't know what I expected, actually. Just something."

"Of course they didn't notice!" Joxer said. When this was replied to by a glare, he rethought his statement. "I mean, Potidaea is kind of... small. No one here is gonna care about all that! You've gotta take your message where it'll really count. This place is too small for us. You're great with words, I'm great with swords. But does anyone here appreciate that? No! They're all too concerned with themselves."

"Um... thanks, Joxer."

Joxer grinned, happy he could help. "Think nothin' of it!"

Gabrielle glanced upward, startled by the sound of approaching hooves. Looking into the distance, she saw a blonde woman in royal garb riding an equally as adorned horse. "Uh-oh... Joxer, you may want to start showing off those sword skills you keep talking about."

This startled Joxer into near panic. "What? Why? Who-" he was cut off by Gabrielle grabbing his head and pointing it toward the coming figure. "...Oh, gods, Gabby, c'mon, let's get out of here!"

"What? Why?" asked Gabrielle, confused. "Who is it?"

"I- don't know," Joxer faltered, "but they look dangerous. Whatever she wants can't be good news. C'mon, let's go!" He began tugging at her arm, but Gabrielle wouldn't budge. She simply stood to grant herself a better look.

"She's beautiful," Gabrielle muttered under her breath.

Joxer shrugged. "I've met beautiful...er."

"What does she want here?"

Joxer grabbed onto Gabrielle's shoulder, but she moved away, intrigued by the horseman, causing her friend to stumble. "Just trying to protect you, Gabby! I can hold my own against this goon, but if she hurts you, she's in for a world of pain!"

The moment the villagers noticed the intimidating figure on horseback, they panicked. This woman was clearly sent from King Ares himself, judging by her wardrobe alone. Many villagers ran into the safety of the nearest buildings; others were paralyzed by fear. But Gabrielle once again set herself apart from her peers by showing a different reaction altogether: intrigue.

With Joxer standing behind her, Gabrielle remained where she was even as the horseman reached the village square.

"Everybody, stay calm!" she ordered. "If you cooperate, I'll leave peacefully." This remark did nothing to ameliorate the worry of the villagers. They looked to each other for an appropriate reaction, but none were exhibited. "My name is Callisto. I represent the court of King Ares. And I have some questions for you all." The entire square remained silent.

Joxer's fingers dug into Gabrielle's forearm as he fearfully fought to avoid Callisto's gaze.

"Nothing? Come, now. Is no one curious about what brought me here? I've heard of small-town mentality, but..." Callisto taunted.

"I am," Gabrielle said confidently.

"Gabrielle, what are you doing?" whispered Joxer, hunching over as if to hide completely in her shadow.

"Excuse me?" asked the leader.

"I'd like to know. Why are you here?"

Callisto laughed with no audible or visible sign of mirth. "Really, Potidaea? This little girl is the bravest you've got?"

"I didn't step forward to be mocked," Gabrielle said sternly. "You have questions. Ask them."

"Fiery, eh?" Callisto remarked. Gabrielle stared back; what fun was teasing if it gained no reaction? So the king's inspector sighed, keeping her signature smirk, and began her business. "I've come looking for Xena."

This generated some talk amongst the villagers, but Gabrielle remained clueless.

"So tell me- where is she?"

The villagers were silenced once more.

"If you don't cooperate, I'm afraid this won't be a pleasant visit. Now, where is she?"

Gabrielle looked around at the faces of her peers. "I'm sorry- who?" she asked.

"Xena. She calls herself the People's Warrior. She's dangerous and I need to bring her to justice."

"We don't know where she is. I don't think most of us even know _who _she is."

"Convenient, isn't it?" Callisto asked rhetorically. She turned back to the terrified village. "Tell me where she is, or your little village burns."

The villagers, filled with horror, began to visibly panic. They ran in every direction imaginable, seeking shelter, as if removing the woman from their vision would remove her threat.

Gabrielle didn't flinch. "Callisto, you said if we cooperated, you'd leave us in peace. Now I'm telling you, we don't know who this Xena is or where she's gone. Run a search if you'd like. But you can't wipe out an entire village just because we didn't have the answer you wanted to hear!"

Joxer, gaining courage, stepped out from behind Gabrielle, although he kept his hand dug into her arm. "Yeah!" he shouted to Callisto.

The chief inspector laughed her joyless laugh again. "Little girl, if you don't have information on Xena, your village means nothing to me. Your family, your friends- they're all going to burn, do you understand me?"

"I'm not going to let that happen," declared Gabrielle.

"We're not going to let that happen!" Joxer clarified.

Callisto dismounted her horse, unsheathed her sword and pointed it at the pair. "You were saying?"

The severity of the situation stabbed through Gabrielle's psyche better than any blade could. "I'm not going to let that happen," she explained, "because I do know who you're looking for. And I know where she's gone."

Joxer's eyes widened and he whispered, "we do?", but the young wordsmith ignored her bumbling friend and kept her eyes directly on Callisto.

"Now... tell me why I don't believe you," the villainess retorted, threateningly closing the distance between them.

"It's true!" defended Gabrielle. "I just didn't want to alarm the villagers. They're always cautious of newcomers- if they'd known I'd taken in Xena, I don't know what they'd do."

"You took her in?"

"Yes! Yes, I did. She claimed to be starving; I couldn't just turn her away. In our talks, she told me of her plans. I know where she's gone. But before I tell you, I want you to promise to spare my village."

Callisto's brown eyes darkened with contempt, but she begrudgingly sheathed her sword and nodded. "Agreed," she said.

"She's gone not far from here. To the city of Polygyros. She plans to stay there a night and then she's going to move north. I don't know what she plans to do or why she's been moving so much, but I know that's where she's headed. She said she has family there."

Callisto pondered this and then warned, "if you're lying to me, I'll burn Potidaea down. And then I will tear your heart out and your pathetic little boyfriend back there is going to watch. Is that clear?"

"Completely."

"Then you did it," Callisto announced, mounting her horse. "You saved your sad, petty little village. But remember my name. I'm sure we'll see each other again." With that, she whipped her horse and furiously rode off in the direction of Polygyros.

When she was out of eyesight, Gabrielle let out a sigh of relief. "You're right, Joxer," she said.

"Of course I'm right! ...About what, exactly?"

"Potidaea is too small for me. I'm leaving. I can't do any good here, and while people like Callisto have the power in this world, good has to be done."

Joxer felt like he'd been slapped in the face. "You're... leaving? But Gabby, when she finds out you lied, she's gonna-"

"She'll come looking for me first. I know it. She won't touch Potidaea unless I'm there to see it destroyed."

"And you're okay with that?!"

"Of course not. But I want to make a difference and it isn't always the safest route that needs to be taken to do that."

Joxer nodded without understanding, feeling as if the wind was knocked right out of his lungs. What was he going to say? 'But you can't leave me'? 'But I love you and we should be together'? He could never. His dejected silence, though, seemed to send Gabrielle a message.

"Joxer, if you'd like to come with me, you can. Just know it's not going to be easy. It'll be dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. But I need to do this."

He stared at her for a second, conflicted. Why couldn't they move to Rome? It'd be great. Just the two of them. Callisto wouldn't find them. And it'd be just the two of them. Just the two of them... like he'd always wanted. But he snapped himself out of his reverie. If she was giving him a chance to be with her, he was going to take it, no matter the almost certain promise of death that came with it. "I'd be honored to go with you," he said soberly.

Gabrielle smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. "I knew I could count on you," she commended, causing him to look away in embarrassment. "Come on, then, Joxer. We've got some packing to do."

"Yeah, of course we do... wait a minute. Where exactly are we going?"


End file.
